because he's the willing Orpheus and she's the unwilling Eurydice
by appleschan
Summary: she doesn't reciprocate and he'd like to have his heart back.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Bleach. I make no profit.

_Warning:_ high school in-universe drabble-not drabble. segmented. i'll try to be ic.

Theme: what i usually do; hack dreams into pieces.

_*stems from my convo with JustGrace13. and Ed Sheeran's music, damn it._

**because he's the willing Orpheus and she's the unwilling Eurydice.**

_appleschan_

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><p>i.<p>

She. She. _She_ , is the solved mystery of his damn life –_love_ is a strong word for a clueless teenager.

When the whole school clamors with something so simple yet so cruel and so petty -the product of the evil, evil high school drama rumor mill, and when some students -_goddamn_, all of them- join in churning the epic rumor of the school that says he's in love, she's in love, they're both in love... _he does nothing;_ he does not "care."

_He's in love, she's in love, they're both in love, and they're from different worlds _ -like R and J.

Romeo and Juliet, as Yuzu would put it, is sweet and a charmer of a tale set to enamor everyone for centuries and centuries and more centuries to come, because everyone loves a story about star-crossed lovers; as Karin would put it, _meh, you completely missed the point_ and a shrug and a roll of her eyes and a swift exit carrying her soccer ball.

However, that's their opinion.

First period.

Orpheus would go to great lengths to bring back Eurydice -Ichigo hears his literature teacher dramatically –lyrically, actually- cries.

"_Great lengths_," the teacher emphasizes, "_great lengths_," like she's a singing Ovid.

Great lesson.

"_Laaame_! He sung for Hades and Persephone?! Like, as in, _sing_?! He should have done something manly! Like _fight_ them. Ain't that right, Ichigo?" there goes Keigo's annoying remark.

_Yeah_, Ichigo thinks_, Orpheus should have resorted into bankai_.

_What's it like to love?_

A part of him agrees with everyone. The part which is bright and expectant and hopeful.

A part of him hopes for what nearly everyone pines for - that_ he gets the girl_. And ride into sunset valiantly. _To happily ever after_.

That part which is expectant -because they went through everything. And that it is normal, really normal, really expected that he ends up with the heroine, because he's the hero.

The part that remains bright, and happy, because she's Rukia. She makes him happy. And they are just halves of a whole.

But she doesn't feel the same way.

"Fuck high school, right?" Keigo nudges him; the little asshole sits beside him. "I can't wait to give those mature, stressed-out hot university ladies their much needed relief!" He whispers excitedly.

"Shut up, Keigo."

But yeah, fuck high school.

Because this is high school and he's living the cliché –the unrequited, he thinks, looking at Rukia.

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><p>to be continued.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Bleach. I make no profit.

_Warning:_ high school in-universe drabble-not drabble. segmented. i'll try to be ic.

Theme: what i usually do; hack dreams into pieces.

_*thanks so much, hirako shinji and hopelessromantic._

**because he's the willing Orpheus and she's the unwilling Eurydice.**

_appleschan_

* * *

><p>ii.<p>

For her to reciprocate there must be something to be reciprocated.

It lies in his body.

His brain is a dictator, bad, bad dictator.

His lungs are accomplices of his brain; they push out the oxygen from him when he speaks.

All his body –physiological and anatomical- systems work as a unit to humiliate him while advancing his feelings.

His heart gets the most awful treatment all the time; it beats hard and fast when he's thinking of her; harder and faster when she's around; it's like a sack of sad potatoes when she isn't around.

And so his heart gets the most terrible treatment.

He'd really like to have his heart back, preferably not in pieces.

"Hey Rukia, I'd like to have my heart back, preferably not in pieces. Thanks."

Rukia looks at him, her petite body turned to him. Keigo is drumming on something beside him.

And he, he just stands there.

Oh fuck.

"Oh fuck."

He said everything out loud.

So he kinda looks away because he's kinda not sure what is showing on his face.

"No need for such crude language, Ichigo," she answers quietly, "_how do I give it back to you?_"

_Something cracks _and he hears it clearly. He doesn't think she would answer _that_ easily to an important request.

"J-just hand it over, don't break it." He replies hesitantly. _As simple as that_.

He isn't really sure what he's talking about anymore.

"_Okay, I don't want it anyway,_ at least," she tells him carefully, "_not now_."

_Something shatters _completely and he hears it clearly.

He nods silently.

"Here," she says, holding out a frog's heart –this is Biology class and they are _dissecting_ hearts. Second period.

"Oh no!" Keigo hisses beside the pair, clutching his broken glass bottle that shattered completely, "fuck, this is _sooo_ cheap." They are partnered with Keigo for the activity-unfortunately. The boy broke a chemical bottle he drummed on. Neither pay him attention.

"Thanks," says Ichigo, putting the tiny heart in his side of table. He wishes it's that easy.

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><p>to be continued<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Bleach. I make no profit.

_Warning:_ high school in-universe drabble-not drabble. segmented. i'll try to be ic. hs-melancholy.

Theme: what i usually do; hack dreams into pieces.

**because he's the willing Orpheus and she's the unwilling Eurydice.**

_appleschan_

* * *

><p>iii.<p>

There exist two timelines –before her and after her.

The tall and lanky body of a teenager, the mind of a grumpy twenty-something and the kindness and warm-heart of a nine year old boy all swirled up to form Kurosaki Ichigo.

His existence does a confusing job of alternating between monotony and superlative –the _extremes_- well.

The first fifteen years of his existence told drama, loss, and petty fights against high-school delinquents, this part played with an utter sense of monotony. Seeing a ghost is his only perk.

The next three years compensated for it with bloody fights, crazy high adrenaline rush, world-jumping-is-like-a-trip-to-the-convenience-store kind of adventures and hardly won successes. The complete opposite of his fifteen-year monotony.

There exist two worlds –with her and without her.

He's more aware of her now. In another universe, she could be a passing glance, a passenger in a bus, a short-lived glimpse in the school hallway, a professor's brief mention, a group of students' idol, the one who walks on the left side while he walks on the right side of the road –both walking from different directions, or she might have never been there at all.

Because he's more aware of her now; she's not a passing glance, she's sits beside him every time during lunch, her legs daintily crossed –like what most of his female friends do except Tatsuki- while gracefully picking her food using her chopsticks and exuding fake –sometimes- smiles for everybody; she's not a passenger in a bus, she walks with him every time and she's like a cat on high alert for hollows;

She's not a short-lived glimpse in the school hallway, she's Rukia and no amount of denying can deny (but he tries anyway because he's Ichigo) that she captures his attention pretty easily –like a fish that jumps willingly to a cooking pot; she's not a professor's brief mention, she wins all her professors' favors because of her 'diligence and academic' attitude –his, actually- and charm that can put the top dog in the class, Ishida, below her at the academic food chain.

She's not a group of students' idol, _no_, that's not the word because she practically _conquers_, surmounts, captures the whole of school with her teensy, girly act and of course –_his heart_, not just her teensy girly act;

She's not the one on the left side while he's on the right side, '_oh bless Kurosaki's soul for Kuchiki-san stays with him_ _always…_'

It's not she might have never been there at all because–

–stop! _It's unbearable_.

For a teenager's heart, falling is easy. Logic can't be applied, all the clichés and all the stupidities, instead, take residence.

Then there exist two states of Kurosaki Ichigo…

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><p>to be continued<p>

side/question

out of _everything, everything, everything_ i've written since i started writing in general, bittersweet chapter 17 is the _worst_ and by worst I mean my _utmost_ _favorite_ –and that i can't even write it. i have not given it words yet; just thinking about it breaks my blackened heart.

i would stop writing mid-word and think about the characters, then afterwards i would think to myself, i'm such a terrible jerk to these two. this is so weird. i suspect i'm empathizing too much, how do i stop feeling the characters' feelings?


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Bleach. I make no profit.

_Warning:_ high school in-universe drabble-not drabble. segmented. i'll try to be ic. hs-melancholy.

Theme: what i usually do; hack dreams into pieces.

_*thanks for the pm(s)_

**because he's the willing Orpheus and she's the unwilling Eurydice.**

_appleschan_

* * *

><p>iv.<p>

Rukia believes in order. Night and day. Black and white. Snow and Sun. Boy and girl.

She isn't blind or naïve or plain evil. She had given it a thought, a long, long, long time ago. She had given _him_ a thought. The boy is acting…like a boy.

And when the boy acts like a boy, she gives no direct answer or indication because she thinks he thinks he feels he has a chance, and she does not know how to let him down easily. Because there's no easy way around it.

An aversion, a slight glance sideways avoiding his eyes when he tells her something an inch close to something romantic, or suggestive. But then he shuts up immediately because he thinks he nearly crossed the line. And Rukia, the more mature one, casually waves if off, pretending not to notice, so he can go back to his little comfort zone and breathe and maybe, forget this encounter.

Lunch is where he usually acts like a boy the most, and occasionally, their walks toward home.

This is lunch and place is the rooftop.

There, she finds him ahead of everybody.

She, too, went ahead of everybody –except him. To see him.

"Hey,"

"Yo,"

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><p>to be continued<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Bleach. I make no profit.

_Warning:_ high school in-universe drabble-not drabble. segmented. i'll try to be ic. hs-melancholy.

Theme: what i usually do; hack dreams into pieces.

**because he's the willing Orpheus and she's the unwilling Eurydice.**

_appleschan_

* * *

><p>v.<p>

A confession. It sort of goes like this. It's a thermal phenomenon, a physical reaction to outside stimuli. May be surrounded by flowers or not. May be a shoujo-manga copycat or not. It is bounded by frilly and girly-girly things, to be sure. The 2 meter-radius around the confessor and the confessee is the densest, energy-filled space in the entire universe.

This, also, this small bubble is all that matters for the confessor. The universe shrunk to form this small space, fuck Orion and Cygnus, and fuck all the other important matters like Oxygen.

Because everything that happens here defines the confessor's next minutes, next hours, next days, next years. It's the sum total of the confessor's being as a teenager.

This, of course, is the cliché that Ichigo tries to avoid –but failed spectacularly so. Because relationship books encourage healthy voicing out of feelings –confessions.

He doesn't have a tactic. It's not even in his nature to subject himself to such self-destructive activity. He'll just go with it, then shit can happen if it wants. But daisies and fluffy kittens can happen, too, if they want.

He doubts she'll come.

Rukia is denser than a brick. And a wood and layers of cement all piled up together.

But the look he gave her prompted something in her to follow him. So maybe, maybe, maybe, she'll come to him. But then maybe she won't because she probably caught on to his miserable little slip-ups and is probably wondering what the hell is wrong with him -because he's sure they do it differently in Soul Society. So no, he doesn't think his mysterious and forceful 'come-to-me' look will have any effect on-

He hears the opening of the door, and hears its soft closing. He tries to not look at her immediately like a lovesick puppy would.

"Hey," he hears her say.

Hoping not to croak like a pitiful pubescent frog, he acknowledges her without looking because that's the number 1 rule in being cool, "yo."

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><p>to be continued<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Bleach. I make no profit.

_Warning:_ high school in-universe drabble-not drabble. **segmented**. i'll try to be ic. language. hs-melancholy. if you can follow my thoughts.

Theme: what i usually do; hack dreams into pieces.

**because he's the willing Orpheus and she's the unwilling Eurydice**

_appleschan_

* * *

><p>vi.<p>

He supposes reality stings harder than an aggrieved wife's bitch-fuck-you slap and leaves a stinging red mark that says _life fucked me hard_.

A confession. It should _not_ go like this. Fucking ants carrying feathers tickling his toe. _My heart is fluttering like a stupid girl's_. Shit. And he feels like backing the fuck out.

He scoffs at girls his age who go gaga over TV shows; their collective yelps of -_kun_ and –_senpai_ and oppa and aegyo and chocolate bar abs. Inside, he's _somewhat, really really somewhat_ the same –except the admiration for the abs part- just the same admiration or adoration for the opposite sex though. Oh the admiration. But quiet admiration. Not loud admiration. Shy-boy admiration. In this little dense bubble –the 2-meter radius- he feels exactly the same.

"Ichigo, what's that about?" She inquires and he hates that she stares directly when she talks to someone because that's a Rukia-thing to do, things don't escape her easily. _My heart is fluttering like a stupid girl's_.

"What?" He snaps and briefly glances at her, because really, really, really, why did he decide on this? He doesn't really know what to tell her, but he wants her to know, and he kinda doesn't want it coming from him, but he wants her to know. He hopes she doesn't laugh at him, but he doesn't want her to _not_ react because that's just…aw shit, that's just fucking awful, he kinda hopes for something positive because it's just erratic and he can't control it and he doesn't know what to think first or what to stop thinking about, it's the teenage thing, and he hopes he doesn't look dreamy, that he can't organize his thoughts, that he still looks cool and nonchalant because it's erratic, it's erratic, it's erratic-

_It's like the heart_-

-it's erratic, it's erratic, it's erratic-

"Ichigo, what's that about?" She inquires again and he hates that she's stubborn, too. It's like she'll pick every muscle fiber, down to the bone, until she gets down to the bottom, nucleus and shit. _My heart is fluttering like a stupid girl's_.

So faces her and takes a big breath.

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><p>to be continued<p> 


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